Years of Anger
by cbear375
Summary: OC. DONT LIKE, DONT READ! When Israel appears at the recent world meeting, all of the countries are surprised, especially the one that saved her life...*Holocaust warning* *OCxPrussia* *one shot  maybe ...


England walked slowly to the meeting room, doing anything he could to extend his time away from that horrid room. The usual meeting were bad enough, but now, America just _had_ to invite the Middle Eastern countries. Everyone knew that most wouldn't come; the only ones that would show up would be Turkey and Egypt. Normally, that is. Surprisingly, England had been told a rumor by a little birdie that a certain young Mediterranean country would be coming: Israel. He had never met the country, having always been a tolerant person, so Arthur truthfully had no clue as to what to expect- except for the fact that there was gonna be a few fights between them and some other countries...and as he neared the meeting room, Arthur knew he was right. He heard yelling. And "like"-ing. And "kol"-ing. And nervous laughing. Reluctantly, England opened the door.

Poland was being held back by the arms by Lithuania. Russia was standing next to the Pole, an evil aura radiating from him, pipe in hand. Spain was sitting on the table, cheerful smile present, but still obviously uncomfortable. Those four were standing on the left side of the long round table, while the object of their hatred was on the right. Israel.

She was a young girl- younger than America and Italy, by looks, so around 17 probably. She had light olive skin and bright hazel eyes. Her long, shiny black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a black tank-top with baggy green canvas-jeans, with an army jacket tied around her waist. She looked incredibly angry, hands on her hips and everything. America rushed over to the fuming teen to try and calm her down before she began to speak again, but it was too late.

"Well, I've addressed the evil soviet, the crazy, sadistic Spaniard, and the stupid, weak Polick, so that's 'bout it..." The girl paused for effect, a cruel smile forming on her lips. Oh, America was way past late; this meeting was raped, beaten, and buried in a ditch, they were all so badly screwed.

The Israeli snapped her fingers, faux-realization appearing on her face. "Oh! That's right! How could I forget you," she said, whirling to her right, so as to face the large blond man whose face was on the table, wishing this was not happening. A silver haired man to his right suddenly grew very tense, as did the rest of the room: the moment they were all dreading had finally arrived.

"Dyyastland." She spat his name in disgust. "You, miserable little kraut. You're worse than the blond, catholic, and commie put together! You filthy mamzer, you unfeeling machine! You kill millions of my people! Don't even ask as to why! Show no mercy!" Her face got a little bit read, and- did England see tears forming? "And you know what's the worst part? No apology. After all these paqyng years and not one word to me! You assal!" She screamed at the German, who just lay, taking it. "Have you no morals anymore? Gat myyanr! You disgust me! Killing so many without batting an eye! You and your filthy brudr!" Prussia, who was already shaking in anger, just lost it at the last sentence and stood up. America frantically tried to reason with him, to get him to stay down.

"Gil! She's not worth it! She's just angry! She hasn't had contact with anyone but me and she sure as hell hasn't said anything about this! Just-just let me try and calm her down!" The albino just waved him off.

"I know what I'm doing."

Gilbert stood up and walked over to the female country that just so happened to be more than pissed at him. He grabbed her arm and dragged her outside the room, shoving past England. The door slammed in the Brit's face. Every country then proceeded to race up to the door, desperately wanting to hear the exchange between the two countries. Only a handful in the front could see.

Prussia turned Israel so that she was facing him and held her arms in both of his hands.

"Rivkah," he hissed, German accent thick. "Calm the hell down. You are making no sense. You walk into the room and immediately start to harass Russia and Spain and Poland. What the hell is wrong with you? What happened to the girl I saved from the fucking chambers?" Gilbert asked sternly, red eyes never breaking contact with hazel ones. At the mention of the gas chambers, Rivkah paled, eyes wide.

"I...I wasn't planning on doing that." She whispered. "It was just...I hadn't seen Ivan and Feliks and Antonio since...since...those times." The young country hung her head. The albino knew what she meant- WWII and the Spanish Inquisition. "The emotions just flew out. I...it was just so easy to yell at them, to finally let all those feelings and thoughts out." Fresh tears began to well up and fall. " And then...and then as soon as I looked at Ludwig...the blond hair...the strong arms...everything flooded back!" Rivkah's voice cracked and she finally started to really cry. Gilbert pulled the crying teen into his arms, hugging her tightly, wishing he could take away her pain. It was just like that day, in Auschwitz... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Gilbert's 7th day guarding the gas chambers, long enough to truly understand what they did. The Jews were led into the gas chambers, thinking that they were just taking a shower, and were locked in. Before they knew what was happening, a button was pushed and a toxic gas engulfed the windowless, sealed room. The Jews in there would then freak out and die a long, painful, suffocating death. Some even had enough strength to write things on the walls, though, and you could never get them off no matter how hard you scrubbed. After around five hours, just to make sure they were all dead, the doors would be unsealed and the guards would begin to wheel the bodies out and either loaded into a truck to be taken to a dump or just buried in a sort of mass grave. The bodies always looked the same; skinny, beaten, bony, light, and dirty. There wasn't much food for the Jews in the camp, and the same thing went for clothing, bedding, and sanitation. Weirdly enough, after a visit to the "showers", the Jew's skin would always have a light green tinge to it.

A new batch of Judes, women, had been rounded up and it was Gil's turn to check that they were all there. He pulled out the list of names.

Gretchen Warner...here.

Esther Steinbeck...here. Gilbert went through the whole list until the last name stopped him.

Rivkah.

No last name.

Like West.

He stopped to inspect the young girl, who looked to be around 14 or 15.

Her skin was stained with dark purple splotches all over. Misty brown- no, hazel -eyes stared without fear into his own blood red ones. She looked like shit. A normal girl her age wouldn't have been able to walk with all the damage she had. Hell, a normal girl her age wouldn't even be alive at this point. But she wasn't normal.

Gilbert yelled at his co-guard to lead all of the women to the "showers". Not even 2 seconds after, the little Jewish girl, Rivkah, raised her voice.

"Yirr zilt nimin windzir libir, windzir hilth, abir yir wiwit quinimal windzir gyist! You may take our bodies, our health, but you will never take our spirit!"

3 German guards started to approach the girl before Gilbert stopped them. He had needed this opportunity to get her alone.

"I've got this one, boys. Just get rid of the others." Gil grabbed the Jew's arm and dragged her to his office, despite her incessant efforts to escape from his grasp.

Throwing her to the floor in a corner of his dimly lit quarters, he questioned her bluntly.

"You're not just any Jew, are you? You're _the_ Jew. The original. The personification of the Jews." He asked her in perfect Yiddish. Rivkah's eyes widened.

"How...how did you...?"

"You learn about the Germanic empires at your old school?"

Rivkah nodded.

"Which one was your favorite?" Rivkah thought for a bit.

"Das Kongreich ein Preussen. The Kingdom of Prussia." Gil smiled.

"Ha! Nice choice. Well, surprise, girl, you're looking at him." He gave a mock bow. Rivkah's jaw dropped, then quickly closed back up.

"Why did you save me from the showers?" She questioned, eyes narrowed.

"Because I wouldn't just stand by and let an immortal like myself suffer for days on end like that. I'm not that evil." The Jew scoffed.

"Oh, so you would save one like yourself, but would easily send 29 other, normal, innocents to their deaths? Oh, no, you're not evil at all!" Gilbert's face grew as red as his eyes.

"L-look, do you want me to get you out of here or not? I have contacts that can get you to Southern Hungary." Rivkah looked at him in shock. Speechless at the offer she, she just nodded.

Gilbert walked Rivkah to the train heading to her contact point, where she would meet up with his friend Elizaveta, who would get the girl to Southern Hungary in no time. Rivkah was just about to board the train before suddenly stopping.

"If you are Prussia...then there is a Germany?" She asked tentatively. Gilbert sighed. Bout time she asked that.

"Yes. He's my little bruder, Ludwig."

"...Could you give him a black eye for me?" She grinned shyly. Gil laughed.

"Sure thing, Riv." Of the past two weeks of living/hiding together, they had gotten to know each other well. To tell the truth, Gilbert had grown fairly attached to the young immortal...

Without warning, Rivkah launched herself off of the train step and onto Gil, hugging him tightly. He was a little surprised at first, but then melted into the hug- for the first time in his life. They just stood like that for easily 5 minutes before the conductor yelled at them to hurry up and get on the train, or else he would leave without them. They parted and Rivkah grabbed her bags and ran onto the train, but not before giving Gilbert a quick kiss on the cheek, which immediately turned a light shade of pink. He stood there until the train had left.

That night, at dinner, Ludwig's older brother stormed into the dining room of the camp and swiftly gave him an angry punch in the face. The end result was a bloody nose and a black eye.

Prussia smirked. West still had absolutely no clue as to why he had done that.

Israel had stopped crying, and the two countries were now just standing in the middle of the hallway, embracing one another. Rivkah squeezed him tighter, and Gilbert returned with the same strength. They felt...strangely comfortable in each others arms. Rivkah brought her head up and looked at the tall empire. Gil looked down at her. Overwhelming emotions toyed with them both. Israel didn't want to kiss him, as it could ruin one of the only friendships she had. Prussia didn't want to kiss her, as she was so...young.

But they did anyway.

The countries in the meeting room gaped at the couple outside their door. Had they heard correctly? Had Prussia really saved Israel's life? It was all too far fetched...and yet, somehow, it was totally believable. Germany looked to be in total shock. His big bruder. Having a soft spot. For Israel, of all people. Well, both were extremely stubborn, and...oh, gott, who was he kidding? They had almost nothing in common! Germany sighed and sat back down in his chair. He was going to have to do some heavy interrogation on his brother tonight.


End file.
